The Mysteries Of Life
by XHeartofaDragonX
Summary: When George LlewelynDavies saw what he thought he never would, and learned things about his hometown that no one ever knew, his life changed forever, and the bond between himself and James Barrie grew much stronger. [OLD! NOT GOING TO TOUCH THIS ONE TOO!]
1. Fishing With A Mermaid

A/N: This is my first story! If you'd like to know about how I got inspired to write it, just read my profile, yes? Sounds good…on with the fic!

Disclaimer: Oh, crap, it looks like I don't own Finding Neverland...

Fishing with a Mermaid

He watched the clock impatiently. Three more minutes until he was free. Free to do whatever he pleased, as long as it was alright with his foster father and grandmother, of course. He tapped his fingertips on the desk, not paying attention to what his teacher was saying. What's the point? He could get the weekend's assignment from one of his classmates. But all he could think about was being able to play and run and not have to worry about sitting in a classroom and being lectured all day.

Until the weekend was over, anyway.

Two minutes. He couldn't take it. The fresh May breeze coming through the open window was calling to him. The smell of the grass, the trees, and the nearby pond in which he and his brothers would soon be fishing in was waiting for him. A bee flew inside the room, and circled George's head. He scowled, and swatted at it with his right hand. The bee thought better of dealing with the impatient young man, and moved on to see who else would be worthy of annoying.

Thirty seconds. George was counting down in his head, and watched the second hand move slowly around the clock. His teacher must have already wished them all a safe weekend, and reminded them to study, because his classmates were talking quietly amongst one another. Finally, the teacher dismissed them. George shoved his cap on his head and slung his schoolbag over his shoulder. He dashed out of the building and over to a tall oak tree where he and his brothers had agreed to meet earlier that day.

He circled the tree, eager to get out of his school clothes and into his play clothes. He thought of the different kinds of fish that he had a possibility of catching, hoping that he wouldn't be disappointed like he was last time. A goldfish. That's what he had caught a week ago. Then again, it was later in the year, and more fish should be biting, or so he hoped. George looked around, and saw his youngest brother, Michael, approaching him holding the second oldest Llewelyn-Davies boy, Jack's, hand. He smiled and stopped circling the tree. Michael grinned and let go of Jack's hand. He ran up to George, and hugged his middle with such a great force that George almost fell to the ground.  
"Augh! Hello...Michael...ugh…It's wonderful to see you too…" George managed to get out. Michael just grinned bigger and hugged his brother as though he hadn't seen him in ages, when in truth, it had only been a few hours. Jack rolled his eyes, and leaned against the tree with his arms crossed, while looking out at the crowd of smiling students. His cap was tilted slightly to the left, and his eyes narrowed. George took one look at him and knew at once what was on his mind.

"You're not still trying to impress that girl, are you? You look so foolish the way you're wearing your cap." George said, as Michael released him and stood on tip-toe searching for Peter, the second youngest brother.

"Of _course _I am. Have you seen her? She's absolutely beautiful!"

"She's older than I am, Jack. I think she's way too old for you. Besides, you don't need a girlfriend, you're only eleven."

"Oh, who asked you, anyway? You always turn me down, George, the least you can do is be supportive of me." Jack examined his nails, trying to look as cool as he could. "But of course, I guess she wouldn't take much notice of me if I were hanging around with _you._" Jack smirked.

"You're hilarious. Wait until I tell Grandmother. She'll give you a good smacking."

"What are you two fighting about? Can't you ever get along?" Neither Jack nor George had noticed that Peter had approached them. Apparently Michael did, however, because he was hanging on to Peter's arm.

"Whatever we're talking about, it isn't any of your business," Jack hissed, "Are you ready to head home? Because I'm really in the mood to catch a nice big carp and cook it up for dinner." He didn't wait for an answer, and started to head towards home. Peter sighed, and the rest of the boys followed him.

OOOOO

The four boys sat by the water's edge lazily, waiting for their lines to be tugged on by a passing fish. Michael, however, was busy studying a small ladybug in the grass, and wasn't paying much attention to his fishing pole.

"Do you think I have a chance with her?" Jack asked.

George sighed. "Of course you don't, she has to be at least fifteen. I think I've seen her with another boy before, anyways." This was a lie, of course, but there was no point in getting the boy's hopes up.

"Well you wait. I'll get her. She's really pretty, and I'm really handsome. We're practically soul mates."

"Right, soul mates. That's what you are, Jack. You're soul mates with a girl you don't even know. How creative. Why don't you try to focus on your schoolwork instead of girls? I've heard that your math grades went down."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Around. I've got my ways. Shh, I think I see a fish. You've got to be quiet, otherwise you'll scare him." George said, lowering his voice as soon as he'd seen the fish. He watched the rippling shadow for a minute or so, then huffed when it sped off in the opposite direction.

"I don't think they're biting today." Peter said. Boredom had overcome the small boy, and he was considering taking up Michael's actions and studying something that actually moved.

"Neither do I. Perhaps we should try back again tomorrow?" Jack suggested. The three eldest boys sighed, and agreed that tomorrow would be a better time. They knew that if they had to wait this long, it probably wasn't worth it. They started packing up their snacks, their blanket they had brought to sit on, and their fishing gear. Michael, however, was lost in his own world. He was imagining what it would be like to be a ladybug. _'But I can't be a ladybug…I'm a boy! Perhaps, then, I would be a boybug?' _He thought. "Come on, Michael, let's go home." came George's voice. Michael nodded and stood. But then, the small, fair-haired boy was thrown forward onto the ground. Jack grabbed his ankles so he wouldn't slide into the muddy pond.

"Michael! You've hooked one! You've got a fish! Quick, reel him in, reel him in!" George yelled with excitement. Michael put his hand on the spinning reel and struggled to wind it toward himself. Peter put his hand over Michael's and helped him. A few seconds later, the water was disturbed by a giant splash, which soaked their heads, followed by a three-foot long bass. The youngest boy gasped in amazement, never have seen a fish this big before so close to him. When the bass was close enough for him to reach, George grabbed the struggling fish and attempted to keep him still. Jack let go of Michael's ankles, and grabbed the bucket they had prepared. He dunked it in the pond, filling it with water, and put it on the earth beneath the fish. George unhooked it, and set it inside the bucket, where it thrashed around in fear.

"I caught one! I really caught a fish! Look at how big he is! Look at him! Wow!" Michael was shocked at his catch, and very proud of himself, as he should have been. Peter frowned when he saw the creature bent strangely inside the bucket.

"I don't think it's big enough for him. Don't we have something else?"

"Just the basket, Peter, but we can't fill that with water, it'll leak. And besides, our food is in there. But look at the size of him! Way to go, Michael!" Jack helped Michael off the ground, and helped him get all the grass off of his front. "How are we supposed to get it home, though? It's far too heavy for us to carry it, and we might drop it."

"Well, if we dump some of the water out then I suppose it'll be a bit lighter. I'll carry it since I'm the strongest, Michael can carry the basket, Peter can get the fishing poles, and you'll help me, Jack." The second oldest boy nodded and helped George with the bucket.

"Do you see that? Look, over there, on the island." Michael pointed across the vast pond at a small piece of land that was clear on the other side of the medium-sized body of water. Indeed, there was a shadow, though it was difficult to see because of the fog that was building up.

"It's just another fisherman, Michael, leave them alone. They're probably looking over at us and admiring our catch." George smiled, looking down at the fish.

"But they don't have a fishing pole. And..," He gasped, "It's a girl! Look, see? She has long hair! Girl's don't spend time around ponds!"

"Some of them do. Alright, can we get home? We need to show this catch to Uncle Jim!" Michael nodded, tearing his eyes away from the girl, and took hold of the basket. He and Peter walked away from the two eldest boys. Jack looked down and grabbed one side of the bucket. George was still looking at the shadow of the girl, and saw something that he never thought he'd see in his lifetime. The fog cleared, but only for a moment. In that time he saw that the girl was in fact a woman, who had no legs, but instead fins! Her long, wavy brown hair cascaded around her shoulders so gracefully, and her arms were long and slender. The woman saw George, her eyes grew wide, and she jumped into the pond, her tail shimmering in the little sunlight, and disappearing into the water. George rubbed his eyes, blinked a few times, and saw that the fog was still hanging low, and proceeded to get heavier. He shook his head, and Jack yelled for him to help with the bucket. On the way home, the fog was so heavy that they could barely see a few feet ahead of them, causing Michael to almost run into a horse-drawn carriage. _'It can't be. It was just in my mind. Mermaids aren't real. Fairies are, but not mermaids. And even if mermaids _were _real, they wouldn't live in ponds. It's the fog. That's what's done it. The fog, it's getting to me.' _George thought. Though the woman, or mermaid, was as clear as day, and George was so sure that she was there.

OOOOO

Later that night, as the boys lay sound asleep in their bed, James Barrie was awake downstairs in the parlor. It was about one in the morning, and James knew he ought to get to sleep, but he couldn't stop writing. It was a curse, sometimes, writing. He wanted so badly to lie in his soft bed, but yet he couldn't bring himself to stop his pen from moving. _'It's fine. If I don't get these thoughts down now, they'll be gone by morning.' _And it was true. James knew from experience that if he didn't write down a thought as soon as it came to mind, he would lose it forever. Oh, and what a thought this was. A poem, more like. Still just words and phrases, but soon, he decided he would try to make a poem out of it. If not, he'll stick it in a play.

OOOOO

George was dreaming a pleasant dream. He dreamt of the Neverland that Uncle Jim had created in their backyard, just for Sylvia. His mother. He remembers her so well, being the oldest and having the most memories with her. The look on her face when she saw Neverland for the first time. Her Neverland. It was marvelous, how magical their lawn had become. He wished it would stay forever. George, in his dream, walked over to the small pond, if you will, in his backyard. The mermaids curled around it, with their long wavy hair, and bright, shining fins. They watched the goldfish, which swam in circles around the pond. So peaceful and careless. It seemed as though nothing was wrong in the world, seeing this. The mermaids and the goldfish. Such simple creatures, yet so calming. Suddenly, the goldfish transformed into bass, thrashing around and splashing the mermaids and George. The mermaids screamed, as though this were a big deal. One mermaid screamed at George, telling him he was a cruel and evil person, and she couldn't believe that he would do anything so hurtful. George didn't know what she was talking about, but before he had time to ask, the mermaids jumped into the pond, disappearing into the nonexistent depths, with the bass following close behind them.

He gasped, and sat up, finding himself in a sweat. _'What an odd dream. It was far too closely related to today's events.' _He looked up at the moon, and guessed that it was early morning because of its position. _'I wonder, though, what she meant. What did I do that was hurtful? I'm certainly not cruel, nor am I evil.' _He sighed. He didn't want to think about it now. In the morning, perhaps. George lay his head down on his pillow, closed his eyes, and without another thought, drifted back into his very own Neverland.


	2. Hide and Seek

Disclaimer: I've bribed them with money, but they won't give me Finding Neverland! (I'm kidding, of course) Therefore, I don't own it…YET!

Hide and Seek

Jack awoke the next morning to find that all of his brothers were awake; their beds were made and had gone, most likely, down to breakfast. He grumbled, got out of bed, went into the bathroom to wash his face, and then got dressed. He hoped that today was going to be fun. A day at the park, perhaps? Playing pirates? Indians? Anything would suit him, really. He just didn't want to work.

When he went downstairs and seated himself at the dining room table, he could tell that something was very awkward. Uncle Jim was oddly happy, saying a cheerful "Good morning!" and grinning as wide as he could. The other boys were just sullen looking.

"What's the matter with you lads? Say good morning to your brother!" Uncle Jim kept both of his hands under the table.

Groggy "'Morning"s came from the three boys. Jack frowned.

"Yes, good morning to you as well. What's got you lot down?" Jack looked around at the shaking heads of his brothers. _'Oh, please don't tell me Uncle Jim is making us to housework. Anything but that! …But wait…Why would Uncle Jim make us clean the house if he's got two maids, and would never do such a thing to us? Oh, heavens, don't say Grandmother is visiting!' _Sarah walked in with a plate for Jack, which consisted of two eggs, two slices of bacon, and a slice of toast with butter on it. The eggs and bacon were made into a smiley face. Jack thanked Sarah, who smiled at him.

George, Peter, and Michael looked at one another. Then they looked at James, who nodded. The boys smiled. "Happy birthday, Jack!" The five of them yelled. Jack jumped, dropping his bacon onto his lap. How could he have forgotten? That's why he got to sleep in! It was his birthday! He smiled. Twelve years old, at last. Even though he had been calling himself twelve for the past few days, now it was the truth. James brought up what he was holding from his lap and slid it across the table. Jack caught it before it hit his plate. _'Socks? I don't need any more socks, I've got plenty. There's got to be a catch.' _Jack gave his foster-father a fake smile. "Thanks." he said.

"Oh, don't give me that, Jack. You don't think I'd actually give you a pair of socks on your birthday, do you? Go on, look inside of them."

Jack's cheeks turned violet, and he looked inside the socks. Money! He took it out and counted it. "Gee, thanks Uncle Jim!" It was plenty more than he expected.

"You're welcome, lad. Now, hurry up and eat, because your brothers are itching to get outside and enjoy the weather. It's lovely out, and I think we'd all like a bit of time at the park, yes?" The boys nodded. "See there? Park it is. Go brush your teeth, the three of you." They got up and ran up the stairs to the bathroom. "Sarah and Emma wish you a happy birthday, as well. Alright, eat up. I'm going to go wash up. And those are good socks, don't be disappointed. They'll last you a long time." He smiled and excused himself from the table, leaving Jack alone to eat his breakfast, and recount his money. Just for the fun of it.

OOOOO

The four, or rather, five boys were walking down the street on their way to the park, along with their large companion, Porthos. They were joking and laughing about the morning's event. "You should have seen your face! I thought you were going to fall out of your chair!" cried George. Peter managed a smile at this thought. Jack's face _was _pretty funny at the sudden outburst from his brothers.

"How could you have forgotten your birthday, Jack? I always remember my birthday! It's the best day of the year!" Michael said. He simply could not understand how one's birthday could slip his or her mind. It must be better than even Christmas, because you're a year older. But then again, a year older also means a year closer to growing up. None of the boys wanted to do that. Even Peter didn't want to grow up. Unless, of course, he was infuriated with something. Then, if he were an adult, he would be able to get away from the problem. He could take his car and drive somewhere where no one would find him. Since, though, he could not do this just yet, he improvised by locking himself in the boys' bedroom, or climbing up a tree. Uncle Jim had given him the idea to climb up a tree, because oftentimes Peter would find the man, or boy, writing up in the towering structure. He guessed it was easier, but was never really sure.

"You even got to sleep in! We'd been awake for hours before you. Lucky dog!" George said. Porthos made a huff at that moment, as though he had understand what George had said. The children laughed. They had reached the park by now, and all of them took in the sight. Children laughing, parents smiling, the sun shining bright. The plants were growing, flowers budding, trees getting their new leaves. There was still even some morning dew left on the grass. The grass that hadn't yet been disturbed by walking feet, rolling children, or running dogs, that is. James smiled. Exactly what he liked to see. Happy children, adults acting like children, and inviting weather.

"Go on, boys. I've got a bit of writing I want to get done. Then all of us can play a game together, yes?" the playwright made his way over to his infamous bench which no one else had yet claimed, along with Porthos. There was no need to put Porthos on a leash, because the dog knew better. Every now and then the scratching of James's pen would bore Porthos, so he would chase a squirrel, or say a small hello to a passing dog. But James knew he wouldn't do any real harm, and would always come back.

Meanwhile, the boys had already begun playing a game of hide and seek. Michael was the seeker, as he always was at the beginning of this certain game. Peter didn't feel much like playing, but Jack pleaded him. "It isn't any fun without you!" He would say. So, Peter agreed to participate in the first few rounds. Then, he would be off to think, write, or just watch everyone else in the park.

George was hiding behind a tree, nestled between the roots that stuck out of the ground. He was crouching down close to it, so he wouldn't be seen, and so he wouldn't soil his clothes. He watched as a little girl picked flowers nearby, and ran over to a small boy, who looked to be around her age, handing him the flowers. The boy made a face, but took the flowers to be kind. The small girl smiled happily and kissed his cheek, then ran off. George heard Porthos's bark from somewhere to the right of him. He knew it was Porthos because of the deep echo, and because he'd heard it a few times before. But when had it been? George was trying to think of the times when that particular utterance had rung through his ears, when something caught his eye. He looked down at a silvery-blue orb that was glowing, and floating close to a hole that the roots had formed with the earth. All of his thoughts ceased to exist inside his mind. Everything around him dissolved. He wasn't in the park, and he wasn't hiding from his six year-old brother. It was just he and the orb. Nothing more. He thought maybe he was seeing things, like he had been with the woman jumping into the lake. By now he had concluded that there's no possible way for a mermaid to live in a lake, and his mind was simply playing tricks on him. Then it was foggy. Now, well, now it's clear as a summer day, and he was less then two feet away from the orb, and he knew it was there. George reached a hand out to touch it. If he could touch it, and feel it, it must be real. No exceptions. But what could it be? He was only a few inches away when –

_CRASH! _An echoing stab of thunder erupted from the sky. The heavens above him lit up, and within seconds, the orb disappeared inside the hole, lingering at first, but then descending further down. George was stunned, and let his arm fall. He was so close to it. He could feel the heat radiating from it. And the weather ruined everything. If only it could have held on for a few more seconds…

Rain pounded down onto the ground around him. It missed George, however, because he had the protection of the branches above him. A few drops got him, of course, but it was far better than what everyone else was getting. He knew, however, that he had to meet his brothers around James's bench. James, who had quickly snapped his journal shut to save the pages from getting soaked, stood up, put his journal over his head, the rain angrily trying to get at his oiled hair. James looked around, trying to see through the unexpected storm. _CRASH! _Another boom of thunder, and another flash of lightning. He saw through the thick rain three small figures running toward him. Michael, Peter, and Jack all huddled around their Uncle Jim, awaiting the return of their eldest brother.

George bent down so his head was right down next to the hole. It was too dark to see into, and it must be very deep, because the light wasn't illuminating a thing. "I'll be back for you… Wait and see. I'll find out if you're real or not. You don't have to be afraid of me, if you are." He whispered into the hole. If whatever it was could hear him, he wanted it to know that he was curious, and he wasn't going to hurt it. He waited a moment, listening for a reply, and when he received nothing, stood up, and bolted toward his brothers.

"George! Finally! Come on, lads, let's get home! Lord, I can't believe this weather." James shouted over another crack of thunder. Fourteen legs bounded off toward home, eager to get out of the rain.

OOOOO

Monday

_'This cannot be happening. It simply cannot! Mermaids, no way. Fairies, well…yes, they're real, but they don't live in_ parks_, do they? I always thought that they were going to dwell in…in a forest, or by the sea, but never in a park. Perhaps I've gone mad…Oh, George, that's excellent. Boost your self-esteem while you're at it.' _George sat in his classroom, staring down at the parchment and ink pen which held the first sentence of his short story he was supposed to be writing. He couldn't focus, though. His mind was set on the weekend's events.

_'Four boys sat by a lake, waiting for their lines to be bitten by a fish…This is absurd…How did I see her? It had to have been the fog. But it was so clear! I remember her exactly. Long, wavy reddish brown hair, long, slender arms, bright green scales on her fins…or tail…or whatever you call it. Four boys…Concentrate, George. This isn't difficult. Four boys sat by a lake, waiting for their lines to be bitten by a fish. One boy went mad and saw a mermaid, and the other three thought he was a nut case. They told their Uncle Ji - …Joseph…and the fourth boy was banned from school, and lived in the lake for his life. A pond. A lake-pond. What is it? It's too big for a pond, but too small for a lake. A pake. A lond? Oh, this is creative. You're acting so childish, George. Focus!'_

George had not written down the thoughts that came into his mind, of course. He reread the sentence over and over, until the teacher dismissed them, announcing to the class that their stories would be an overnight assignment, and they would present them to the class first thing tomorrow. He groaned. Stuffing the parchment into his bag, he shoved his cap on his head, which had managed to go quite lopsided. It moved. By itself. George paused, and heard someone giggle behind him. A girl's giggle.

_'Of course it didn't move by itself. God, George.' _He turned around to find Erin, one of the girls in his class. He smiled.

"You should thank me. Had you walked about the school grounds like that, you'd have gotten a fair few snide remarks." She raised her eyebrows, turned her shoulder, and stalked off. George scratched the back of his neck. _'Girls. What do they know? They're the ones that wear heavy dresses all year long. It's a wonder they don't sweat.' _He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out the door. The other three boys were already waiting for him by the oak tree. They decided it's much easier to meet at one place every day than having to search for each other all the time. George looked down the path they had walked down exactly three days ago.

"George, come on!" Jack said, looking up at the sky. "It looks like it's going to rain again, look at how dark the clouds are!"

"You three go on. I'll catch up later. There's something I have to see." So, the three boys headed off home without the eldest brother, calling back to him when they were nearly out of sight. But George paid no attention to them. He could sense something. He pushed a low hanging branch out of his way, and started off down the path.

**A/N: **I didn't really like the beginning of this chapter at all…it was just sort of a random little thing that popped into my head…but I figured socks kick arse, and Jack rocks HARD (do not take that pervertidly) so why not. But I really like the park scene…a lot… AND HAH! I'm leaving you in suspense! Hehehehe…thanks to all who reviewed Chapter 1….Now you get to review Chapter 2! Aw, you guys rock! hugshugshugs


	3. Talking With Her

**Disclaimer:** Own I not Finding Neverland! Own I, THE PLOT! (Dun dun dun)

Talking With Her

George emerged from the narrow path leading through the trees and ending at the pond. The weather wasn't bad. It was mostly clear, with a few dark clouds to the right of the sun, moving ever so slowly. He walked to the edge of the pond where Michael had caught the large bass, and also where Uncle Jim made them release it that very same day. George looked across the pond where he had seen the "mermaid". He saw that the small peninsula had a spot of grass that had been flattened. A few blades were struggling to stand straight up.

_'Someone must have been here just now. But, I would have heard them if they had ran off. Or possibly have seen them. And there aren't any footsteps, either. Oh, this is ridiculous.' _George started walking to the left of where he usually fished. He went around half the perimeter of the pond, stopping at the peninsula. He dropped his school bag and took his hat off and threw it on top of the bag. Stooping down, he saw a glimmer in the water. It was a bright orange, with flecks of black. Whatever it was, it was stationary. George couldn't make out the shape of it, but he hoped it was a tail. A tail of a mermaid, so he could prove to himself that he hadn't gone mad._ 'Alright, on three…I'll catch her. One…two…three!' _George thrust his arm into the water wrapping his entire hand around the slimy scales. He brought it up above the water, and his entire face was soaked instantly. Through the water, he saw what he had caught.

"A fish!" He released it gently, hoping he hadn't hurt the creature. "I caught a bloody fish! I'm so _stupid!_"

"But it was quite impressive." said a cool female voice. George looked up and saw that a woman was in the lake. She had bright green eyes and dark, dark black hair. Her shoulders were bare.

"Th – thank you, ma'am. Er…May I ask what you're doing in the pond?"

"Swimming, of course. Is it a crime?" She had a strong Irish accent that rolled off of her tongue with ease.

"No, no, of course it isn't. But normally women don't swim in a pond. They've got to clean the house, and take care of the children, and prepare the me-"

"Well, you may find that I'm not like other women. You're lucky you didn't hurt that goldfish, young man. I thought we'd already warned you about the last fish you nearly killed." She raised her eyebrows and swam a little closer to the shore. "You do remember, don't you?"

George sat there in shock. How could she have known about the dream he had had about the mermaids and the bass? Surely this woman couldn't be a mermaid. She wouldn't reveal herself in front of him. "Yes, of course I do… but how do you know about that?" he asked.

"I've got my ways." She smiled. "Just listen here, boy. No more fishing, understood? Believe it or not, fish feel pain too. They scream blood-curdling screams that us merpeople can hear, and you humans cannot." A chill ran through George's skin.

"They scream? But…no, that's impossible. We'd be able to hear them." He ignored what she had said about merpeople, because he thought he had heard her wrong, and didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"I told you, you can't hear them. It's out of your hearing range." She sighed. "I've said enough. Perhaps you can come back tomorrow, and we can talk a bit more, yes?" She dove down into the water, her green tail splashing water upon George's torso.

He sat there for a while, unable to process all the thoughts going through his brain at once_. 'This had to have been real. I was less than five feet away from her, and it's clear as crystal out. But mermaids don't live in ponds! They live in oceans! How could she have possibly known about my dream? Can they enter other people's dreams? Do fish really scream?' _While all these thoughts swam through his head, he hadn't noticed a small bumblebee that was whirring around his head. He swatted at it, much like the time he had in his classroom last Friday. The bee was stubborn, and refused to leave him alone. It landed on a flower by George's school bag. The fourteen year old sighed, stood up, replaced his cap and schoolbag on his head and shoulder, and headed home, the bumblebee close behind him the entire way.

OOOOO

Later that night, as the four Llewelyn-Davies boys lay in their beds, awaiting Uncle Jim to come say goodnight, George still had his mind on the mermaid. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to know her name, her age, how she survived in a pond, how many others there were, if she had a boyfriend…

Well, maybe not that. But he did have his mind on her.

"George? You alive down there? I said goodnight." George blinked, allowing his eyes to come back into focus, and saw Uncle Jim hovering over him.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Jim, I was…somewhere else."

"Yeah, like in your girlfriend's house." Jack said. George rolled his eyes.

"You know as well as I do that I haven't a girlfriend, Jack."

"I sure hope not. She'll have to go through me, first." Uncle Jim stood up straight as a board, his legs somewhat apart. He balled his fists, placing them on his hips, and turned his head, keeping his face as serious as he could. The boys laughed.

"Uncle Jim, you need to be taller to act that way!" Michael said through his laughter. Jim let his arms flop to his side, and looked at Michael with a smirk.

"Now, Michael, I've told you a thousand times not to make fun of me. Perhaps you haven't noticed, my wee lad, but you aren't exactly the tallest tree in the orchard, either." Uncle Jim smiled, bid them all a last goodnight, kissing each of their foreheads, and turning off the oil lamp. He left the door open a crack, casting a small bit of light to fall over Peter.

George lay there with his hands behind his head, staring off into nothing. He thought about the mermaid for a little while longer, then retreated to a more comfortable position, and fell asleep almost instantly. He hadn't noticed how tired he was until he actually took his mind off of her.

For the first few moments, his sleep was dreamless. But then he saw her. Her beautiful green eyes staring back into his, her long, shiny black hair flowing freely in the water. She was so gorgeous; he didn't want to stop staring at her. She turned and pointed to the path that lead back to the school, and what would be the camera's point of view in a movie, but was actually George's in his dream, zoomed in to focus on a certain bush. He could see the ground was loosely packed to form a small, perfect mound just beneath the plant. Quickly, the dream vanished, leaving the rest of his night dreamless and black.

**A/N:** OMIGOSHLEIKIMSOSORRY! I know I took forever, and I know you were ALL just DYING to read this chapter, because I know how much you guys love me, but think I could not…..I had an idea for an idea, but couldn't display it into words. And, OMIGOSH it's short. I know. I KNOW, OKAY? I'll make up for it. I promise!

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

_Meredith A. Jones_

_KatrinaKaiba_

_H.M. Chandler_

_Kristina_

And _Amber_, of course.

I love you guys.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Finding Neverland_, nor do I own any of the characters, unless otherwise specified, or not named in the movie. (I am one serious bitch).

Chapter 4

Saturday

James sat on his favorite bench in the park, scrawling his thoughts and observations onto his notebook. Porthos was lying on the ground in front of his feet, as though he were guarding his best friend from any stranger who was suddenly going to attack him, because as we all know, people randomly show up and attack others. Sometimes he would take a break to watch the boys and make sure they weren't hurt, or getting into trouble, or just because they were so carefree, innocent, and happy together. The weather had become sufficiently nicer, so there was no rain, and there were no clouds. The sun was shining brightly, and the air was beginning to get that summery feeling. Everyone could sense it.

James closed his journal and stood. He looked around the park to spot the boys, but they were nowhere in sight. He started walking, his journal by his side, along with Porthos, who was on his other side. He was walking slowly, so he could take in the picture of the laughing children, the stern looking old ladies with their dogs, and the crisp new leaves on the trees. A few minutes passed, when:

"Hi Uncle Jim," came a voice from down below. James looked down to see George sitting against a tree. He smiled.

"Well hello there, my young prince. What, may I ask, are you doing over here all alone, and where are your brothers?"

"I don't know," George said with a shrug, "I think Michael went off to bother some lady. Peter stopped playing tag with us a while ago, and went to sit on a bench to watch us instead. Jack's probably proposing to the same lady Michael's bugging. But I'm not really sure."

"And what are you doing?" Uncle Jim squatted down so he was eye-level with George.

"You'd laugh if I told you."

"Of course I wouldn't. Go on, lad."

"Well, alright. But only if you promise not to think I'm mad."

"I promise"

"Okay," he thought for a moment, "Well, I guess I should start from the beginning. That one day when Michael, Jack, Peter and I went fishing after school, when we were about to leave, I saw something. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me at first, but I wasn't so sure…"

"What did you see?"

"A mermaid. She was sitting there, on that small peninsula across the pond. Lake. I don't know what it is."

"It's a pond. Lake's are far bigger. But, you saw a mermaid?" James raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Our eyes met, and hers grew large and round and she dove into the water. Then Jack nagged at me to give him some help with the fish. So I did. That night I had a dream about mermaids screaming at me for hurting the fish, and I woke up in a sweat."

"This was last Friday?" George nodded. "I see. Well, is that all?"

"'Course not. The next day, Saturday, was Jack's birthday. When we came here, to the park, we were playing Hide and Seek. Well, I was hiding exactly in this spot, and I caught a glimpse of something. I looked down and there was a small, glowing orb not two feet away from me. It had some silver and some blue, and I reached out to touch it and then the thunder crashed overhead, and it got scared and flew into this hole." He pointed at the dark hole.

"Huh. Well, that's odd isn't-"

"Wait! I'm still not done! The Monday after that, four days ago, when school let out I got this weird feeling. I felt like something was waiting for me at the pond, so that's why I got home late. I went to the pond, and searched around the spot where I though I'd seen the mermaid. And then…" He continued telling the events of that day, how he talked to her, about the dream he had about the mound under the bush, and how he didn't think mermaids could possibly live in ponds. Uncle Jim only smiled and nodded.

"It seems like you're creating your own Neverland, doesn't it?" Uncle Jim said.

"But it's all real, Uncle Jim! I've seen it all, and I've heard it all, and I've felt the water on my skin from the mermaid! I felt the heat from the little fairy orb...thing…! It isn't in my head. It can't be." He looked down at the hole, still waiting for the fairy to show itself.

"I never said it wasn't real. I believe you entirely. Perhaps you could go back and talk to your mermaid friend and ask her how she manages to live in a pond. I think you should also wait until the park isn't so crowded, so that less people are around when trying to talk to the fairy. They don't always live in forests. They can live anywhere they want." George sighed, and got to his feet. James stood also.

"We should probably just go home. I don't want to talk about it anymore." And with that, he started walking, his Uncle Jim close behind, searching for the other Llewelyn-Davies boys.

OOOOO

Monday

George sat against a tree, overlooking the pond. He was, as far as he could see, alone, but he had a feeling that someone was watching him. George hoped, of course, that this mysterious feeling was coming from the mermaid. He heard a rustle in the bushes behind him, but he paid no mind to them. After much thinking and staring, he found his eyes fixed upon a perfect mound of dirt that lay under a few scraggly bushes to his right.

The dream. That was something that was on his mind. What was so special about this insignificant piece of Earth?

George sighed and looked down. He studied some wildflowers while fingering it's leaves. It was so simple. Purple petals formed together atop a thick, green stem, leaves protruding every which way. George wished his thought could be like this flower. Nothing confusing or unreal. Easy to pick out the parts that made it up. But, no.

Another rustle from the bushes, along with a small "ouch!". George turned and saw Michael, detangling his foot from a clingy branch. The older boy's heart sank.

"What are you doing here, Michael?"

"Looking – for – you!" He said through sharp tugs in attempt to free his foot, and then fell backwards when it was released. George rolled his eyes.

"Well, why are you looking for me? I'm perfectly fine being _alone_."

"Uncle Jim sent us out. It's nearly supper." George's eyes grew wide. Supper? That meant he had been there for nearly two hours. Supper was at 6:30, and he'd been there since school let out, which was at 4:00. But…us?

"What do you mean _us_?"

"I mean Porthos and me." As if on cue, the dog emerged from behind Michael. He opened his slobbery mouth, clamped it around the shoulder of Michael's shirt, and pulled in attempt to get him on his feet. Michael stood. George sighed and looked out longingly at the pond. If she hadn't shown up by now, she must not be coming today. The older boy picked himself up and the three of them walked back home, talking (and barking) about what might be for supper, and George listened while Michael told him about Jack and Peter getting into another fight. Apparently, Jack had been calling Peter names. Again.

OOOOO

Friday

During the week, George had been so busy that he didn't have a chance to go back to the pond or the park. Between Grandmother coming over (which required much help from the boys to make sure the house was 100 clean), homework, babysitting, and school, there hadn't been much time to do anything. But, today was Friday. That meant no homework and no school the next day. The house was still spotless from supper with Emma duMaurier on Wednesday, and she certainly wasn't coming back anytime soon.

George was planning on going to the park today. He hadn't been there in nearly a week, and hoped that the fairy was still living in the tree.

"Shut up! You don't know anything! You're too young to understand!" Jack's voice rang throughout the house, echoing up the stairs and into every little crevice. Barking escaped Porthos's mouth, and Uncle Jim's quick footsteps were heard rushing down the steps.

"I'm only a year younger than you, _and _I'm better in school than you are, so don't tell me I don't know anything!" Peter shouted in defense. George looked at Michael, who stared back with big eyes. George shrugged one shoulder. He leaned over as far as he could without falling out of his desk chair and closed the door.

"Well what should _you _know about what she wishes? It's not like she's here to tell you, now is she?" Jack spat back.

George shook his head. Jack was getting all worked up over a girl. He looked at Michael. The six year-old sighed, hopped off of his bed, and walked toward his eldest sibling. George ruffled Michael's hair, and put his arm around the boy's shoulders.

"Boys! Jack! Calm down! What's going on?" Uncle Jim to the rescue…The two ignored him.

"You're just jealous because she was closer to me than you ever would have been." Peter said, calm as ever. This made Jack's blood boil. Peter turned to go upstairs, but Jack grabbed his arm, spun him around, and punched him in the jaw. With a cry of shock from both Peter and Uncle Jim, Jack moved past them and ran up the stairs. He bounded into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Who is it now, Jack? The same girl from last month who told you to jump off a –"

"Michael, shh." George stood and walked over to Jack, who was pacing the room. "Jack, sit down. Tell me what happened."

"No! Peter's…stupid! He makes me so angry! He thinks that he was her favorite and that he's so much better than us!" Tears were now falling freely down Jack's cheeks. He sat on his bed and put his face in his hands.

"Peter doesn't think he's better than us, Jack, why would he?" George was trying to calm Jack down, but he wasn't sure just speaking calmly would do the trick.

"Because! He's always saying how close he was to her and he just seems so _bloody _proud!"

"Who's 'she', exactly?" George sat next to him. This was ridiculous. _'She's only a girl, Jack; don't beat yourself up over it…' _Jack looked at him with red eyes and wet cheeks. A long, hard pause rested between them. Jack seemed to not believe that he had asked who the girl was. He shook his head slowly.

"Mum, George. Peter thinks he was her favorite. She loved us all equally, didn't she?"

Oh. That made everything different. George's face turned soft, and he smiled just a little.

"'Course she did, Jack. Don't you ever think otherwise. Peter doesn't think those things, you just really tick him off." Jack's lips curled into a smile.

"Rather good at that, aren't I?"

"You're a pro."

"Jack!" Uncle Jim bounded up the stairs. Emma and Sarah were tending to Peter. "Jack Llewelyn-Davies!"

"Oh, no." Jack looked at the door, and as it opened, a trying-to-remain-calm Uncle Jim was standing in the doorway, his face slightly red, and very obviously angry.

As Jack started explaining and Uncle Jim tried not to yell, George announced that he was going to the park, and would be home soon. Michael followed him down the stairs to get away from Jack and Uncle Jim, and also to be with Peter. George grabbed a book on a table before leaving the house.

When George arrived at the park, he headed straight towards the tree. Being Friday, he had guessed that there would be a lot of people around, but was surprised when he found only a few old ladies huddled by a bench speaking to one another in hushed tones, and a man playing catch with his dog in an open field. George sat against the trunk, less than a foot away from the protruding root.

"Hello," he whispered softly. He waited for something, anything to happen. '_Patience is a virtue,'_ he kept reminding himself. He watched the hole for a few minutes, and then retired to the book. As he looked at the cover, he realized that he had grabbed Peter's journal. Excellent. Now he had nothing to read. He knew better than to read someone else's personal journal, tempting as it may be. He rest his head back against the trunk, put the book on his stomach, and laid his arm over the book protectively. He closed his eyes and slowly dozed off into a light slumber.

OOOOO

Twilight had filled the night sky, and George remained stationary in his spot by the tree. His sleep was dreamless for the first time in a while, and it was rather relaxing, except for that horrible annoying poking that occurred every few seconds at his face. George opened his eyes and saw in front of him a small, bluish-silver orb, moving back and forth, and every time poking the tip of his nose.

**A/N:** I think that's a good place to leave you hanging. Omigosh I am SO SO SO SO sorry for the uber-long wait…With the end of school and studying for exams and babysitting and sleeping and going places and cleaning my arse off, I haven't had much time to write, but I've FINALLY gotten this posted, so now you can't be angry with me! Uhh…well, I don't really have a name for this chappy yet…but I will get one. Once again, sorry for the like…month-long wait! I STILL LOVE YOU GUYS!

Thanks to those who reviewed Ch. 3 –

_Meredith A. Jones (MJ!)_

_KatrinaKaiba (TARA!)_

_Sanguinans Lupus__ (NAAAAATALIE!)_


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